Sparvelilla
by Secret Time Lord
Summary: Alone in a land, she struggles to survive. Monsters at every turn and a planet to watch over, life is tough, until a madman appears and carries her away. Now she fights monsters willingly, and travels the stars in a little blue box. This is the story of a Legend. Or, two Legends, intertwined. Previously 'World full of Wonders'
1. Chapter 1

A great time ago, when the world was full of wonders, there was a Kingdom.

In the highest tower of the Kingdom, a princess lived. The princess was the most beautiful maiden anyone had ever seen. Dark-skinned and exotic, she drew suitors like moths to a lantern.

She was the first to see the New People.

Short and hardy, they directly contradicted the Old People who were tall and lean. She thought they were so beautiful and felt ashamed of her own body and her People's bodies. She welcomed the New People with open arms, believing them to be descents of the Gods. Then it all changed, and the Gods showed their true side and murdered a great many People. The New People sought to rule the Kingdom, and the Old people sought to enslave them.

As things were oft to do, war broke out and soon the naïve princess was in peril. Her father locked her away in her tower to protect her, and the Peoples soon forgot she existed.

After many years, a New Man discovered her and they fell very much in love.

In the midst of war, a squalling girl was born. Her skin was the mottled color of both the people, and great splotches of both hues littered her skin. Her legs were different lengths, and she had a lame arm. She was never named.

Her mother, the princess, died in childbirth and her shallow father threw her away, disgusted with her appearance. A slave discovered the child and brought her before the leaders of both races, for there was a prophecy that a hideously disfigured child would end the Everlasting War.

As a babe, she beckoned both men towards her, and placed her tiny hands of different colors upon their brows. As words poured from her infantile mouth, people rejoiced, for they thought she would deliver them safely from the Everlasting War. But instead she damned both races to an eternity of pain and suffering, for their foolishness and selfish ways.

Both Peoples died in agony, and the child fashioned herself a tower made from the bones of the Peoples. There she lived until her own child was born and the girl learned the story of the Damned. Then her daughter passed the story down, from mother to daughter, for the Daughters of the Condemner must never forget that the blood of a killer flows through their veins.

There, to this day, descendants of the first mixed-blood live in the tower made from the bones of the Damned.

_oOo_

This is a story I have known since I was born. My mother taught it to me, just as her mother taught it to her, and her grandmother taught to her mother. It is a story we all know intimately. It speaks of the first of our race, the first of our string of mothers.

As the story says, I live in a tower made of bones. The bones have all melded together over the millennia, so now the tower is just a slick white pillar surrounded by the vast desert that we call home.

My mother had always been a skeptic, and said our tower was only a calcium deposit one of our ancestors hollowed out. Perhaps it is, but I prefer the story's claim. I feel it is more fitting.

My mother always scolded me for having an wild imagination. I remember when the monsters outside terrified me, when I entertained the notion that they were the souls of the Damned coming back to haunt us, the closest relation to the Condemner.

She had sat me down on her knee and explained to me that they were just beasts, with not a single thought in their head. They had been there since before the time of the Condemner, and could not me the Damned. I did not see the logic then. That night, she took me out on my first nest raid, and we ate rich eggs for the next week. I was so proud of myself; I didn't have room in my head for fear.

When my pride wore off, she distracted me with music from a harp her mother had given her, and taught me how to shoot a bow and arrow. My bow, a present from her when I was still a babe, was carved from some of the rare wood she had discovered in an ancient, fossilized jungle before I was born. It is strung with a monster's dried gut, which we now replace regularly, because of often they die, and their enormous size.

When I learned to shoot, she took me out and I killed my first creature. I used some of its feathers to adorn my hair, which floats around my head, black as ink, the feathers dotting through it, red as Mother's blood.

Mother's hair didn't float like mine does, nor was her blood the same color as mine, clear as glass. She said my hair and blood are gifts from my father, but she looked secretive when she said so, so I suspect she was lying. I don't truly mind. A woman like Mother was bound to have secrets. Sometimes though, when I was angered, she looked frightened of me, which just served to make me frightened of myself. I wish she could've told me why before she left this world.

At least our skin color was the same, so I knew I was her daughter, and not some stolen relic from a faraway land.

Mother said that over time, the starry dark blue of the Old People and the peachy pink of the New People that had mottled the Condemner, blended. Our skin is a dusky purple now, with silvery dots that resemble the constellations covering the sky. My mother once compared the Old People's skin to the night, and the New People's to the day, and we were a mixture of dawn and dusk, the peace bringer, the compromise.

Poetry and music was something Mother had been fond of, so it is something I will now sing at her funeral, longing for her alive, spitfire and all.

When I say funeral, I mean tipping her body into the Abyss.

There isn't much left of her body. She jumped in front of a monster that had broken into our underground sanctuary. I was able to kill it, and her last dying words were my name.

The daughter of the Condemner always will name her child just before they die. When I was younger, I used to wish for a name, a way to connect to my mother, but now I know it is a burden, and one I wish to rid myself of. I always knew my mother would die, she told me plenty of times that she would die a violent death, for that is how all of us die, but it doesn't make this burden easier to bear.

I wish my mother was here, alive, speaking, laughing, weeping, it did not matter. I tried to picture her alive but already that image is slipping to be replaced with a bitterly cold, dead corpse.

I sing a song my mother sung to me when I was a little girl, finally returning the favor to her dead body. She used to sing of the sorrow my dead father caused. My father came from a far off land that was dying, where he often talked about frozen water called ice that now was melting into plain water that killed animals. He said he had come from a land called 'Swee-ten' that was located on 'Earth'. I had done research; there was no way I could've inherited my blood from him. I loved my family anyways, despite all the secrets kept from me. So I sang a song in his native tongue, as a final salute to my much beloved parents.

The first line bubbled to my lips, where I began the haunting, lilting tune unbidden.

_Nu så föll den vita snö, föll på björk och lindar.  
Frusen är den klara sjö, väntar vårens vindar.  
Liten sparv, fattig sparv, ätit upp sitt sommararv.  
Frusen är den klara sjö, väntar vårens vindar._

_Vid den gröna stugans dörr stod en liten flicka:  
Sparvelilla, kom som förr, kom ett korn att picka!  
Nu är jul i vart skjul, sparvelilla, grå och ful.  
Sparvelilla, kom som förr, kom ett korn att picka!_

_Sparven flög till flickans fot, flög på glada vingar:  
Gärna tar jag kornet mot, kornet som du bringar.  
Gud skall än löna den, som är här de armas vän.  
Gärna tar jag kornet mot, kornet som du bringar._

_Jag är icke den du tror, ty ditt öga tåras.  
Jag är ju din lilla bror, som dog bort i våras.  
När du bjöd glad ditt bröd åt den fattige i nöd,  
bjöd du åt din lilla bror, som dog bort i våras._

With my last quavering notes, I gave my last kiss to my mother, shakily placed upon herforehead – or what was left of it.

Before I could think about it, I rolled her into the deep black pit that would be her final resting place, among her mother and her mother's mother and so on and so forth. The next time I would be united with her is when I die, now.

I watched her body tumble through space as it was swallowed up by the impenetrable blackness, feeling nothing but incredible numbness, and a detached fascination that came from my more morbid side.

I stood by the Abyss for hours, standing with tears running down my face for all the people who had ever died, and felt the weight of my planet settle on my shoulders. Now, only one person would fight off the monsters, rather than two, and only one person could explore and maintain the planet that was rapidly crumbling around her. I could only imagine what two planets, or even a star would feel like to care for, let alone the universe. One planet was enough. It was even harder to keep a crumbling, deteriorating, rotting planet afloat all by yourself.

I needed to exercise all my talents and my use natural link to our - my planet around the clock. Many a night I had come down to see my mother staring vacantly into the fire, shoulders slumped, lines creasing her face, unable to sleep.

So she had fought monsters constantly to keep her awake.

My mother had died a hero protecting her daughter, but also died as only one bead in a necklace, a link in a chain, moving blindly forward, following what tradition had forced her to.

I refused to be a bland link in a chain, the same to so many. I would be different. I would be strong. I would pull this planet together, single handedly, and restore what my ancestors sought to destroy.

I would not be known as the descendent of the Condemner. I would be known as the Bringer of Life. I would breathe Life into this abandoned wasteland.

That I promise, I promise upon my newly given name.

I promise. Always and forever.

_oOo_

Whaddya think? The translation to the song is below. Sorry, if it's not exact. I thought it was appropriate though. Please R and R! Flamers will be toasted to a crisp!

Mua ha ha ha ha!

:D

Disclaimer:I don't own Doctor Who in anyway!

Sparven på julmorgonen

Sparrow's Christmas

The snow has buried the flowers in the vale,

The lake is frozen over in the bitter winter frost.

The tiny sparrow has finished his summer food.

The lake is frozen over in the bitter winter frost.

A little girl was standing on the stoop of her cottage:

Come, little sparrow, take this seed from me!

It is Christmas, my poor homeless sparrow,

Come, little sparrow, take this seed from me!

Joyfully the sparrow flew down to the little girl:

I will take this seed from you with many thanks!

My child, I am not a bird from this world:

I am thy little brother, I have come from Heaven.

This little seed that thou gavest to the poor sparrow

Was received by thy little brother, from the land of the angels.

Hugs!

DracoGurl721


	2. Chapter 2

It seems to me as though day and night have blurred together, and my planet is whizzing at a million miles an hour. Every day is the same routine; wake up, eat, fetch water for the day, eat, clean my weapons, practice music or writing (soft arts my mother deemed important), eat, battle monsters until exhausted, fall asleep.

I've found myself beginning to talk to thin air, cluttering the sound waves with white noise to drown out the silence. I'm not sure how long it's been since my mother's died. Days, weeks, years could've flown by and I wouldn't have noticed.

I'm going insane.

The only thing keeping my feet planted firmly on the ground of sanity is both my promise and battling creatures of the dark. That, and drawing.

My mother and I used to do this when we were bored to tears. We always had tanned the hide of some unfortunate monster for armour, and then the tender underbelly and slice it as thin as we could. Mother used to go deep into the ground and gather milky white gems that would leave residue on the dark leather. We had once decorated the whole tower with various drawings of the world around us.

Fantastic monsters had come alive in my mother's art. Griffins with hideous feathery wings and sharp intelligent eyes littered the wall near the fire. Brilliant dragons with cracked and faded scales hung from the ceiling of her room. The horrible Creatures with blood matted fur and wide mouths that could swallow you whole sat docile by the window.

All the monstrous things we loathed were pinned to the walls of our tower so we could hate them more and more every day. I used to beg my mother to draw something 'pretty' for me, but she refused and told me there weren't any pretty things anymore, save for me.

So she drew me.

All the pictures she had ever drawn of me were kept in a special container in the bookcase, where I could flip through pictures of myself from years past. From my childhood as a sweet little girl, to now, as a bloodthirsty savage, I could see myself grow older. I could see that sweet little glimmer disappear more and more every moment she drew me. I wonder what I would look like now. Perhaps that glimmer was gone.

Perhaps I look lost and alone, saddened and woeful.

I suppose I might look angry, full of wrath and vengeance.

Maybe I look rude, arrogant or callous.

I could look insane or deranged.

Or cold.

Or detached.

Or cruel.

Delirious.

Loopy.

Unbalanced.

Dangerous.

I probably will never know, and that is a fact that scares me more than any horror story told to me by my mother.

Ah well, it doesn't really matter.

But I did swear to be different.

I'll show tradition. I'll set out on an adventure, away from home.

A tiny whisper told me I might never return.

I told the whisper to go away, I hadn't anything to lose.

It was true. I didn't have anything to lose. Except maybe my life, but even that wasn't worth much.

It was with a sickening jolt that I realized our home might never return. People might never return to populate my planet. My planet would crumble and die, a lone sphere turning in the dark of space.

I have no way of leaving or escaping.

I would die with my planet.

Alone.

_oOo_

Rose's point of view -Interlude between _New Earth _and _Tooth and Claw_

The Doctor and I stood in the Tardis – Well, I stood watching him fiddle with something under the grates, and he was just whistling some tune.

I knew in both in our minds, we were reliving the kiss that wasn't mine. Even cramped and tucked away in my own head, I can remember the half-lidded stunned look he gave Cassandra. I knew I loved him, even in this ridiculously foxy body. The question was; did he love me?

I knew he was fond of me at least, and I do so miss the old him, the one with blue eyes and big ears and short-cropped hair. I miss his leather jacket, and it's just so strange, seeing him in a pinstripe suit and trainers with big brown eyes and really, _really _great hair. I just stood and watched my Doctor tinker with his Tardis, practically feeling myself grow fonder of this new face.

A melody began in my head, one that seemed so perfect and heart-shatteringly gorgeous, I began humming it. The Doctor grinned at me and went back to whistling. Only this song I was humming wouldn't stop, and kept growing louder and louder in my head, cresting and breaking in waves. I clapped my hands over my ears as if that could stop the song. I could barely hear the metallic clang of my body as it hit the grates.

I curled up in a ball and tears began to leak out of my eyes. _The song wouldn't stop!_ I think I felt the Doctor's hands on my arms, but I couldn't be sure. Every nerve in my body seemed to have stopped working, and I couldn't feel the cold metal on my skin any more.

I felt close to bursting and I was sure I would die. I opened my mouth to sob, but instead of my voice, a voice I had never heard before began singing.

_Nu så föll den vita snö, föll på björk och lindar._

The voice was ethreal and young, impossibly so. It was the voice of a child, and it made the Doctor pause. That wasn't my voice.

Once the line was done, I felt immediatly better. I sat up and wiped my eyes, brushing my blonde hair out of my mouth. My – The Doctor was crouched down next to me, buzzing his sonic screwdriver in my face.

"Are... you okay?" His brown orbs flickered to each of my eyes. "Don't lie to me, now."

"No –", My voice cracked. _How embarrasing! _"Nah, I'm fine."

I made to get up, but the Doctor pushed down on my chest and made me lay back down.

"Now, what was that?"

"No clue, just a song in my head that made me sing it. Gonna keep me here on the floor all day, are you?"

"No, seriously, Rose. Do you have any idea what that was? Aside from a song in your head that made you sing it?" His voice stayed low and serious.

"A song in another language that made me sing it? I don't know. Do you?"

"Rose, the Tardis translates every language. _Every _language. Well, save for some ancient ones, but that's beside the point. Rose, you sang a song in another _language! _Not to mention, you had a song in your head, and that's a song that is serious stuff! If that was what I think it is, I think there might be a telepathic kid crying out for help." He was grinning now, and I was pretty sure the serious danger was gone.

"Want to go help them? Can we even do that?" He made a chuckling noise in the back of his throat.

"Let's trace it's origin, shall we? Then we'll help him." Offering his hand to me, I stood up. As soon as I was stable, he grinned his madman smile at me and was off pressing buttons and pulling levers to follow the song ringing in my head.

"Excited, are we?"

"Oh yes, s'not every day you get to help a little kid!"

When we came to a stop, he flung the doors wide open. A burst of hot dry air swept through the Control room. It looked like a wasteland out there, with the line of cliffs to our left the only source of shade.

"Wow, that is hot. Oh yes it is. Almost as hot as when I went to..." His chattering seemed to fade into the background as I looked over his shoulder on my tiptoes.

"So, where are we exactly?"

"Somewhere in the Syranese Galaxy, on an abandoned planet, looks like.", He jammed his hands into his pocket and strolled out into the heat, jerking his head that I follow. "Allons – y Rose Tyler!"

We weren't walking for very long (read: the Doctor wasn't jabbering for very long) when we saw our first sign of life. In the distance, we could make out a huge dark shape that moved incredibly slowly. It seemed to pick up it's great shaggy head and smell us. The Doctor and I looked at eachother and I had to ask.

"What's that?"

"Thats a..." He squinted at it and shook his head "I don't know, Rose Tyler."

I gave a gasp of mock surprise, "Why Doctor, that's got to be a first." He tilted back his head and laughed. Quite different this new Doctor was.

A noise behind us startled him and he grabbed my hand.

"Scared of a lil' wind? Fight Sycorax, sure no problem, Autons? Psh, easy peasy..." He had shushed me.

"Right now would be a good time to... Run!" We tore off and I looked back.

Two great lumbering beasts ran after us with great gaping mouths and long clumpy fur. They huffed as they ran, and rancid breath rolled over us, making me nearly lose my lunch. Their eyes rolled in their heads and long strings of yellowish drool turned to mud in the red dust.

"That – _huff_ – is – _huff_ – vile!"

Needless to say, they were messes of fur and long limbs hastily thrown together in a hodge-podge creature. I averted my eyes and kept running, being tugged along by my Doctor. The hot desert air quickly made me sweaty and sticky, and all I wanted was to stop. We still were running alongside the cliff and I spied a cave. I jerked the Doctor into it and we tumbled into the cool, dark cave. Unfortunantly, there wasn't much room, so the Doctor and I had our knees pressed to our chests with pokey rocks jabbing us in our rears.

The great... things couldn't fit their heads into the hole and I caught my breath as best I could. The Doctor flipped over on his hands and knees and crawled deeper into the tunnel. Despite our situation, I have to admit I may have admired his rearend a tad. Ok, maybe a lot. Alright, you win, I was oggling his skinny arse. Ok? Ok, moving on.

He stopped, turned his head to me and grinned.

"You'll like this, you will."

I was caught and I knew it. A moment too late I realized two things. The first being that my shirt was scooped entirely too low for crawling, and two being that he _hadn't _caught me, and there wasn't a reason to look sheepish.

He crawled out and I crawled after him. The sight we saw stole my breath away faster than anything I had ever seen, though perhaps not faster than when I had seen the Earth from space for the first time with my other Doctor.

Giant crystals filled the room, 10 meters long at least, sparkling and winkling. Some were milky white while others were clearer than glass. In the background, a brook could be heard, and the sound bounced off the crystals, for the walls could not be seen. The only light was coming from some luminescent gems that glowed slightly yellow.

I could remember some things in school about a cavern in Mexico with massive crystals similar to these. I couldn't help but feel that these were so much more impressive.

The Doctor put his hand on my shoulder as if to restrain me, and I realized I had been inching forward to the edge of the stone platform.

"We have to turn back. There isn't a way out here." He said this quietly, yet it echoed around the cavern.

We scrambled back, with our breaths coming out in little pants because the passage was steadily sloping upwards. When we reached the entrance, the beasts had gone, and the only indication that they ever existed was the indents and scrapes in the sandy ground. I spied a tower off in the distance, and the two of us had the same idea; run like the devil was on our heels towards it.

"3… 2… 1… Allons-y!"

We reached the tower surprisingly quickly, and I collapsed against it. The Doctor was running his hands all over it, moving like some demented squirrel. Then he leaned over and did something I never thought I'd see him do. He licked the tower.

"Ew! Doctor!" He looked at me strangely.

"I'd say it was made of a calcium compound, but that doesn't seem right. Hold on, Rose… It's a tower, made out of bones."

"Bones?" I jumped away from the building.

"Bones. Millions of years old, protected against the elements and covered in a layer of bone, like someone had poured molten bone over top of it. Rose, we found a tower, in the middle of a desert, on an abandoned planet, made out of bone! Isn't that just ambiguous?" He was circling the narrow tower making every other word quite faint.

"We gonna go inside?"

"Trespassing is a thing I do best." He held the door open for me and we slunk in. It took a minute for my eyes to adjust to the low light, but when they did, what I saw surprised me. There was a staircase, uneven and rough that spiralled up and up and up. Along the wall were little niches where glowing crystals and some nasty smelling candles sat, providing very low light to see the stairs. The Doctor and I glanced at each other and then began up the stairs, our footsteps echoing ominously in the gloom.

After what seemed to be an eternity, we reached the top where a flap of leather hung in a tall doorway. I followed the Doctor into the top of the tower.

A dusty round room met us. There was a massive window on one side, and various tools hung beside it. A desk was pushed up against a bookshelf made of stone, leather and more bones. Ancient books filled the book shelf, with crumbling covers and pages. A hammock hung high by the ceiling swung back and forth. A tarnished harp sat by an empty fire place, and various knick knacks sat around the room. The room looked dishevelled as though the occupant had left in a hurry.

None of these things were particularly intriguing, yet still Rose gasped. All over the walls, doodles and drawings were spilled. Some were dull, a picture of a rock, some were bright, a long lost city, some were intricate, a language that looked more ornate than gallifreyan, some were horrifying, monstrous beings straight from a nightmare, and others were tragic, drawings of a lone figure on a plain with ghostly people surrounding her, reaching for her, with a word the Tardis couldn't translate.

All of them were incredibly detailed and realistic, and this was the reason Rose had gasped. She had looked at the monsters and for a moment believed them real.

"What is this place?" It was said quietly, softly, rhetorically.

"My home. And it would probably be beneficial to the state of your current life that you leave my home." A growl, "Now."

_oOo_

Rose and the Doc meet our loopy narrator, and are found in her tower. Oh dear.

So, please r & r! Happy Thanksgiving to all Americans out there!

DracoGurl721 over and out!


	3. Chapter 3

The Doctor and Rose turned around their hands up. Whatever they expected, it was certainly not what they saw.

A girl, perhaps just a little younger than Rose, stood menacingly in the doorway. In her hands, a wicked looking bow and arrow were pointed at the two of them. Inky black hair swirled around a dusky blue face, looking as though she was underwater. Large amber-y eyes were narrowed at them and iridescent spots marched across her blue skin from her head to her toes, which were bare. She was the same height as the doctor, though her billowing hair made her appear much taller. Several scratches across her fore-arms and legs wept a clear liquid that Rose hoped wasn't pus or blood.

"Who're you?" The Doctor asked quizzically.

"Thanks, but I'll ask the questions here, you are in my home after all."

"I'm the Doctor and this is Rose." Rose waved shyly. "And, who're you?"

"None of your business. Leave." Anyone could see her arms shaking. Out of fatigue or nervousness the Doctor couldn't tell.

"No name? How odd. Rose have we ever met anyone who doesn't have a name?"

"Not in my memory, no."

"I never said I didn't have a name, I just can't tell you."

"Then who are you?" It was Rose who asked.

"I'm the last of my kind. Leave."

"Ok, we'll leave, come along now Rose." Now Rose knew exactly what was going on. They made for the door.

"Yep, let's leave. Bye!" They were only a few steps down the stairs when she called.

"Wait! Come back!" When they went back, she was lying collapsed on the hammock. "Can you help me? You said you were a doctor and that's what I need. Please…"

The Doctor was by her side in an instant. "What's wrong?" Rose hovered in the doorway, unsure what to do.

She lifted her leather armour off her cloth-covered belly. A long purple gash ran from just under her breast to her opposite hip. The clear liquid from fresh cuts was practically non-existent. Instead, yellowish crust covered the wound, split where she had moved.

"Can you move?" She nodded feebly.

"Quickly?" Again she nodded.

"Good. Now, we're going to have to run a great deal to get to my ship. Do you think you can manage it?"

"I've done it every day for my whole life. I can manage a run."

"Alright, let's go." He helped her up and she stood, albeit shakily. She puttered around for a moment, putting her armour back on, slinging her bow and quiver across her back, and sliding a couple daggers onto her hip. As a second thought, she grabbed a book and strapped it to her back, under her bow.

"Why all the weapons?" Rose asked from where she stood.

"In case we come across a Creature or monster."

"You fight those things?"

"For most of my life. Where else do you think I get food and clothes from?" She shook herself. "Come on, your doctor said it best. Time to go."

Rose and the Doctor sputtered indignantly as they walked down the stairs. When they reached the bottom, they crouched.

"On a count of 3. 1… 2… 3!" They took off running. Rose watched the girl with narrow eyes, immensely jealous of her long legged grace, even in pain.

They ran for long, eventually finding the Tardis. It was a strange and uplifting image. The little dark blue box against the harsh red of the desert planet. The girl collapsed against the Doctor and Rose supported her as he unlocked the Tardis. The Doctor and Rose carried her in and let her lie on the grating while he scanned her with the sonic screwdriver and she undid the armour.

When the girl hissed, Rose made a noise in sympathy. She talked to distract the younger girl and herself from the ghastly scene playing out. "Gotcha good, did they?"

"Yeah. I won't die from it, but hurts like the dickens."

"How d'ya know you won't die from it?"

"I won't die for a while. Quirk 'suppose. Innit the same for you? Suppose not, you funny little human, all warm and soft. All pink and yellow." She lilted the last part in a sing-song manner.

"What is it with aliens callin' me pink 'n yellow?"

"Aren't you? Fits you to a T. _Pink and yellow, funny thing, on a mountain, in a stream. Twirls in the autumn colours, dances in the spring rain, rolls in the summer, sits in the snow." _The Doctor had injected some kind of painkiller into her bloodstream, and it had made her go all loopy.

"Did you sing earlier? Somethin' like 'Nu so fell?'"

"_Nu så föll – _Now it seemed. Song m'mum sang when I was little."

"Where's your mum now, huh? All alone?"

"She's in the abyss. S'dead," Rose could've face-palmed. The girl had already said she was the last of her kind. "S'ok. She's with her mum, 'n her gran, 'n her great gran... Wish I was there. S'lonely, all on your self. Go crazy after 'while."

"Your not gonna be on your own again, alright? We'll take you with us, right?" She shot a pointed look at the Doctor.

"Where d'ya go?" She started to drift off and her slur was getting worse.

"Well, all over really. Anyone of the stars, and then back to Earth every once in a while to check up on people and Rose's mum, though she could probably fight off any alien threat."

The Doctor finished bandaging her side, and she began to fall asleep. "M'dad s'from Earth. Swee-den, 'e said. I always wan'ed to travel, no way to at home..." She had already nodded off.

"So, now what?"

The Doctor and Rose had carried her lanky form into a new bedroom, and Rose had to say the girl looked positivly angelic while she was asleep. Rose and her Doctor were now sitting in the kitchen, drinking tea and resting. Every once in a while one of them would comment on something into their mug and the other would answer with a grunt, caught up in their thoughts.

"Strange hair she's got, all floaty 'n stuff."

Grunt from the Doctor.

"Should we keep her?"

Cue grunt from Rose.

"'Suppose she needs a proper bedroom and bathroom."

Grunt from the Doctor.

"Where should we go first? She said she had wanted to go to Earth."

Grunt from Rose.

And thus their hours wiled away with such aptitude, their tea growing cold in their hands, neither of them noticing.

A holler and several hacking noises roused them quickly from their contemplations. They rushed to the source, only to find the girl covered in feathers, with an expression of absolute bewilderment and a ripped open mattress where she had rested previously. Rose couldn't resist the scene and chuckled. Soon, the Doctor and her both were laughing so hard tears began to smear Rose's mascara and the Doctor was starting to snort, which only set off Rose, which in turn made the Doctor laugh harder.

The girl was looking at them as though they had gone mad. She slipped her dagger back into her belt and snuck out of the room, leaving a trail of feathers.

When Rose and the Doctor rose from their fit, they were horrified to see that their new companion had wandered off.

After a while of searching feverently, they found her dangling her feet out of the front doors and tears tracking silently down her blue face. She had lost herself looking at the star they were orbiting around. When the Doctor coughed quietly, she had jumped up and had him at knife point before she remembered who he was. A muttered apology did little to calm the Doctor's nerves.

"Do you want to go home?"

"No," She wiped her tears away. "I was thinking of my mother. She would've thought that star was beautiful. She wanted to travel, but couldn't." Rose wrapped an arm around the crying girl while the Doctor watched on. He could remember the days when he had cried, far before he had met Rose, or any human for that matter.

"What's your name? Why won't you tell us?" He muttered.

"I got it when my mother died. I didn't know if you knew the legends of my people. I didn't know if you would judge me for who's name I bear." She took a deep breath. "My name is," She made a strange noise, a mixture of flowing music and guttural pops. "Since you two can't call me by my name, you can call me Anastasia. _Resurretion." _She looked wistful.

The Doctor interrupted the awkward silence before it could even happen by clapping his hands.

"Ready to go somewhere?"

_oOo_

Please review! Thanks! Cupcakes all around!

DracoGurl721


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